The Wicked Game
by blood red youth
Summary: The skin was patchy and purple tinged in places, and the lips were drawn back into a last vicious snarl, cuffs around wrists and ankles. Larten checked for a pulse over and over again, convinced that this must have been some kind of wicked game. PRE-BOOK, AU.
1. Chapter 1

Kind of trying to sound out if there's any interest in this. I have a few later chapters of this half-written already, but it'd be good to know if there's any interest in reading it before I start working on it more. Hope this taster is as mysterious as I was going for! Enjoy

* * *

Larten awoke with a jolt. With no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there, his first reaction was to scramble to his feet to defend himself against any danger. His eyes took a second to adjust and in that time, he registered a feeling like an oncoming storm in his temples. Reaching a hand to the side of his head, he took half a second to study the curious patches of red on the snowy ground, and then, as he concluded that at least some of the blood was from an injury somewhere inside his hair that had dyed most of his white shirt red, he remembered something.

Where were Arra and Gavner?

The three of them had been forced due to recent weather conditions to take a lesser-known path down from the Mountain. He could remember Gavner grumbling about the cold and the impossible climb and Arra threatening to kill the younger man if he didn't pull himself together. Larten could remember absolutely nothing about arriving here exactly, and similarly he had no recollection of becoming separated from his friend or his mate.

He had no idea how he'd ended up injured, either. He could already see purple corpses scattered around him, against trees and face down in the snow, so he gathered it must have been a battle.

Had Arra and Gavner left him for dead in the ice? It seemed unlikely.

Though his head was pounding with every step, Larten forced himself to study the bodies, in case one or two of them turned out to be vampire. In his confused haze, perhaps induced by blood loss, the gravity of the situation hadn't struck him, and he turned over the corpses without any hesitation. None of them turned out to be those of his comrades – there were five or six in the area, all huge Vampaneze who had clearly not been travelling here by accident. They all had several weapons with them, swords still lying in their limp hands. They had been travelling as a pack, and they had been looking for a fight.

"Crepsley?" a voice said suddenly from behind him, though it echoed in Larten's head three or four times before he registered that it wasn't his imagination. Trying to be swift despite his injury, he spun around to face the threat and reached for a knife that was no longer in its sheath, stumbling and nearly falling in the process.

Before he could gather himself again, someone's hand was on his shoulder. Larten managed to blink his eyes clear and locate Arrow's face in front of him.

Larten got a sense that there were others with him, but he couldn't focus long enough to find out who they were. Just as he started to worry that he might have been more seriously injured than he'd initially thought, and before Arrow could support him, his vision swam and he collapsed.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is a lot longer than I think the rest usually will be, but I wanted to get this one all out of the way in one go to get to the real story faster. I'm really glad people are interested in this so far, thanks for your reviews! Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter :)

* * *

"Is he still alive?"

"Probably."

Larten could hear the voices in his dreams before he fully reached consciousness. He stayed still for a few moments, half-awake, and allowed his eyes to remain closed.

"We are probably doing him more harm than good carrying him around," someone said through a mouthful of something. "We should wait here with him instead."

Someone else sniffed. "Nonsense," they replied. "I am not stalling any longer. I don't really know why you even stopped for him in the first place."

The other man chuckled. "Don't be bitter."

There was the sound of a sigh. "He probably needs medical attention," the less concerned man admitted, though it sounded like he blamed Larten significantly for the disruption of their journey regardless of his proximity to death. "We can take him _all the way back_ up to Seba, if you really want to be the Good Samaritan. I am certainly not prepared to freeze to death out here while we wait for him to come round."

At the mention of Seba's name Larten knew he was not in any danger. Creaking his eyes open, however heavy they felt, he dragged himself onto his side and coughed, arousing the attention of his new travelling companions.

"See, I told you he was probably alive," Mika Ver Leth commented, rising from his seat to offer the red-haired General his arm to help him sit up and then standing and staring at his companion as if suggesting that now that their casualty was conscious, it might be an ideal time for them to make their exist. Arrow, still seated and chewing on an unidentifiable limb of a rabbit, ignored him.

Waiting only a couple of seconds for Larten to get his bearings and notice the huge bandages his unlikely saviours had wrapped around his head, the bald General scooted closer.

"What happened?" he asked.

His voice hoarse, Larten couldn't bring himself to try and explain that he had very little memory of how he'd ended up unconscious and surrounded by corpses. "Vampaneze," he said gruffly, clearing his throat.

Arrow chuckled. Larten couldn't see exactly what was humorous about his struggle to stay alive through his clearly awful head injury and frowned in response. "Well, obviously," Arrow said, as gently as he could. "I assume you were ambushed?"

Larten simply shook his head. "I cannot remember," he said quietly. The more he tried, the less it seemed possible. Everything was hazy, even as far back as preparing to leave the Mountain, but there was an aching black gap in his memory somewhere after Gavner trying to decide on the best way to consume a raw deer.

"To be honest," Arrow said, when it was clear that he wasn't going to get anything else out of Larten for the next few minutes. "It's very impressive that you're alive at all. There were five dead Vampaneze in that clearing. Either they were idiots or you're quite the warrior these days."

Mika had taken a seat. Feeling a little more like himself, Larten imagined the General rolling his eyes at that.

"Did you find Arra and Gavner?" Larten asked abruptly, and felt the shift in the atmosphere like a slap in the face. There was a lengthy silence.

"Excuse me?" Mika asked slowly.

Larten cleared his throat painfully again, his head throbbing in response. "They were with me," he explained, brow furrowing as he tried again to remember what had happened. He was still limited on the details, but things were coming back slowly. "We were going to help Vancha. But when I came around, I could find neither of them."

Arrow was seemingly speechless. Mika, however, was not.

"Did you check the clearing?" he demanded, voice having risen a few octaves since he found out that something was likely to have happened to his beloved former assistant.

Larten wasn't injured enough not to feel impatient. "Of course," he replied, voice dripping condescension. "I checked as well as I could. They are not there."

Mika had seemingly realized that his question was pointless before it had been answered, and his eyes were already closed as he focused on the search for Arra – frantically, realising that he should have done that before, Larten did the same for Gavner. It was far more difficult than normal to establish a connection with him, but the connection was certainly still there. He hung on for a few minutes, willing Gavner to communicate something of interest, but it seemed the younger General was focused elsewhere, and the connection broke.

"Gavner won't speak," he revealed, confused and concerned. Surely Gavner must have been aware that Larten would be searching for him as soon as he realized they were gone. Something significant must have been happening for his friend not to give him anything.

Mika was occupied. He squeezed his eyes shut as if concentrating as hard as he could on communicating with her, and then placed a hand over his eyes as if it would helpful for him not to see.

"I don't understand," Mika admitted eventually out loud, looking confused. "She was trying to show me something."

Before Larten could interrogate him about what he'd managed to gain from whatever she was trying to show him, Arra was there in his mind suddenly, seemingly having grown tired of trying and failing to communicate with Mika. Their connection was stronger than any they had with others, and tuning into her thoughts was surprisingly simple. Everything she was seeing was suddenly real to him if he closed his eyes. She was frustrated and panicking, which was an unfamiliar emotion seemingly even to her and made him wince with its intensity as she passed it over.

_I don't know where I am, _her voice was telling him. _I can hear Gavner, but I haven't seen him. _

There were decrepit bricks in her view, an unpleasant ray of sunshine through bars, and Gavner's unmistakable voice growling and shouting at something, far away from her. It barely sounded like Gavner at all.

_It's been days, _she was saying, tinged with fear. _I thought you were dead. _

It hadn't occurred to Larten until then that he had no idea when their battle in the forest had taken place. It looked like he'd been out longer than he had imagined. Before he could do anything to reassure her or ask anything else about her whereabouts, there was a flash of purple and voices around her and _panic_ so strong that he cried out, as she must have done.

_We need you to help us_ she conveyed, frantically, and then her concentration was gone and her mind was closed. Either she couldn't keep up their silent communication with everything else going on around her, or she simply hadn't wanted him to see anything else.

It was like coming round all over again as she released him. His extreme reaction had attracted Mika and Arrow's attention. They both stood over him, looking deeply concerned.

Larten had to clench his jaw tight to fight back the tears in his eyes. She was _terrified_.

"We need to go," he explained, unable to control his distress or his frantic breathing. He scrambled to his feet straightaway, only for his injuries to interfere and send him stumbling sideways into Arrow, who steadied him. "They need help."

Mika looked as disturbed as he felt, but placed both hands on Larten's shoulders firmly and gave him a gentle shake.

"Go _where?_" he asked, as calmly as possible. At that question, the one he knew he couldn't answer, Larten almost sobbed.

"She doesn't know," he said despairingly, his usually controlled grammar slipping in his distress. "But we need to find out _now._"

Arrow shook his head, and guided the distraught General back to his seat on top of a log. The only truly level-headed and reasonable one left in the group, he already knew that it was necessary to stall Larten at least until he calmed down. He was no use to man nor best in his current state of health, regardless of how urgently he felt his mate might need him.

Mika had turned his back and was facing up towards the moon, clearly trying to reach her again.

"You won't get hold of her now," Larten said, head in his hands as he tried to get a grasp of breathing normally. "Something bad is happening, and to Gavner too. He was..."

This time, Larten's voice did break and his words vanished into sobs before he could say anything more. Mika's fist clenched, and though it was clear he was failing to get through, he continued staring up into the sky and focusing, desperate to reach her.

Arrow remembered something. He nudged the orange-haired General and waited a few moments for him to become coherent enough to answer questions.

"Where did you say you were going?" he asked, and Mika turned around to listen to the answer, though he was still not willing to give up his mission to mentally locate his assistant.

Larten took a much-needed deep breath. He and Arra had long been intending on travelling, having grown tired of simply existing within the Mountain, and before they had chance to leave the Mountain in peace the Princes, aware of Larten's intention to travel, called the two of them to a meeting about Vancha March's ailing division who were trailing a group of rogue Vampaneze in France.

Nobody was questioning Vancha's capability – but rather the capabilities of the group he'd been assigned to help him, which largely comprised of youngsters in training and a selection of promising newly qualified Generals. Unfortunately, on last communication from Vancha, it seemed these "promising" new faces had not lived up to their hype. Of the five that had travelled with him to begin the mission, only one remained – all had disappeared through a series of events that nobody could understand. This left Vancha with one other General, who was apparently nursing several wounds from their most recent conflict and was therefore almost useless in battle, and four young trainees, who had not been injured only due to Vancha's respect for the formidable enemy they faced.

Gavner hadn't even been involved, but he had insisted on coming along, at least until they got to France. He had promised to make himself scarce if he got in the way once they arrived. Sadly, it seemed he already had.

"To help Vancha," Larten replied blankly. "The Vampaneze seem to have got the better of the rest of his team."

Everyone had heard the story by now, but it was all starting to come together for Arrow, if not for either of the other two distraught men who sat with him. The disappearances Vancha had reported had been treated as desertion by the Princes and frowned upon, but they had not made sense – it was incredibly rare for a vampire to abandon the clan during a mission, and almost impossible to fathom that _four _trustworthy new Generals might have done so all at the same time.

It was beginning to look like they hadn't. Had it not been for Larten's ability to connect with Arra and an existing knowledge that she and Gavner would not have abandoned anyone, it might have seemed that they had run, too.

Arrow sighed, and resigned himself to several months of harrowing and tough work. His peaceful break with Mika in England was looking unlikely.

"Tomorrow, we will contact Vancha," he announced. Mika and Larten stared back at him in horror at the suggestion that they might wait so long, but Arrow held up a hand to signal that he would not listen to any arguments on the matter.

"For now," he said, watching Mika pace back and forth in front of him and looking at the defeated slump of Larten's shoulders. "We must all rest."

It was clear that neither of them were happy with that, but that they didn't have another way to tackle the situation. Arrow knew, of course, that none of them would sleep – but could only hope that a few hours of rest might bring some clarity to their situation and a brief chance for Larten's injuries to begin healing.

The three watched the sun rise from their small shelter, the sunlight washing across the white ground, while Larten wrung his hands and Mika cast his mind out again and again. It was the calm before the storm, but there was very little calm about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Before the sun had even fully set that first evening Larten was on his feet, staring out into the wilderness. It was as if he felt the longer he stood and looked out, the faster he'd be able to go when the sun finally stopped holding him prisoner.

Initially, he had not cared about the possibility of burning – it had taken over an hour of Arrow's gentle coaxing for him to realize that venturing out during daylight was unlikely to help Arra and Gavner at all, in the long-run. Mika had managed to get through to Arra a couple of times, for a few minutes, and gleaned absolutely nothing from it apart from continual reassurance that she was still alive – and Larten had managed the same with Gavner.

Though Mika was reassured by their brief moments of contact, Larten was less so. Over the following days, when they travelled as fast and as long as they possibly could at the expense of all else, Mika was occasionally able to report that she'd said things as comforting as _I'm alright _and _I'm trying to find a way out_, which had initially delighted them all, and had led to Mika getting an hour or two of much needed rest.

While he slept, though, Arrow had secretly watched Larten talk to her again, and seen him pound a fist against the cave's wall while his shoulders silently shook. She was telling them different stories, and Arrow feared he knew which one was true.

* * *

Vancha was there to meet them when they stumbled into Chamonix. The area was unusually beautiful, surrounded at every angle by imposing snowy mountains like a walled fortress, but Vancha looked weary of everything including his awe-inspiring surroundings.

They had arrived early in the night, and so Vancha quickly hurried them away from the streets where they might arouse suspicion among the town's residents – they looked like huge, wild warriors who had walked a thousand miles in bizarre capes with medieval weapons. They looked exactly like what they were; _vampires_.

"Where are you staying?" Mika asked impatiently, as the green-haired General manoeuvred them around the outskirts of the town. The four of them had barely even exchanged greetings – Vancha, who was usually so cheerful, looked ready to collapse from exhaustion, and the three travellers hardly ever spoke even to each other, concentrating most of the time on their own thoughts.

"It changes every night," Vancha replied gruffly. "I have things stored in five or six places."

He led them to an old church; one which seemed like it had been abandoned hastily by the locals, and snuck inside through a broken panel in one of the extravagant windows. He motioned for the others to follow him inside, and showed them to the little home he had made up beside the altar. For a moment during their approach Larten looked uncomfortable, and Vancha turned impatiently towards him.

"Problem?" he asked, as if prompting a fight. Arrow had never seen the good-humoured General in such a bad temper.

Larten shrugged, looking as broken as he had been since they'd started their journey, and Vancha's expression softened.

"Sorry," the green-haired man said gently. "It's just I can't help but think there's no religion in a town like this."

There was another man sitting down among their modest supplies – they had several swords and knives and various other weapons, including whole sets of Vancha's beloved throwing stars – who none of the group recognized. He was significantly, noticeably young; much more so than any of the rest of them. Arrow guessed immediately that this must have been one of the trainees.

"This is Klaus," Vancha explained when it became clear that none of them were acquainted. He took a seat next to the young vampire, who looked terrified and unwell, possibly from the stress of the deeply unpleasant mission he had found himself on.

"He is the last one standing," Vancha continued, laughing grimly though it was clear that he did not find anything about his situation humorous. "It's been just him and me, these past couple of nights."

Larten's mouth dropped open.

"What about Gunde?"

Gunde Tyssel was a new General, and on last word from Vancha, had been badly injured in one of their many confrontations with the Vampaneze. He had been something of a shining star at the Mountain, and everyone had hailed him as a hero after concluding that all of his comrades had deserted Vancha when the situation became too tough.

Vancha half-smiled, as if in memory, and made the Death's Touch sign. "He is gone, too," he said, while Klaus wrapped his arms around his knees in apparent despair. "But he wouldn't have deserted the mission. I am certain he is dead."

"What about the rest of your trainees?" Mika asked, taking a seat next to Vancha with a look of plain shock on his face. It was clear that he already knew what must have happened to the rest of the trainees, but it was so unbelievable that they all needed the confirmation before they could come to accept it. The moment the question was out of his mouth, Klaus was already clearly in the throes of complete despair.

There was no need for an answer, and Vancha rubbed his eyes with one hand while laying the other comfortingly on the youngster's shoulder.

"I haven't found any of them," Vancha admitted, looking like he didn't want to denounce them all in front of distraught young Klaus who had clearly lost some of his dearest friends – or been left behind by them. "They might be dead."

The _might _hung in the air uncomfortably. Before Arrow could say anything to highlight the connection between this situation and theirs, Klaus stood abruptly.

In a sudden wild change of attitude, Vancha had tackled the younger man to the ground almost before anyone else had realized what was happening. Klaus cried out in shock, and Vancha held a hand down over his throat, seemingly oblivious to the rest of them watching.

"Where were you going?" he barked, such fury in his eyes that Larten, who had long considered Vancha a friend, almost couldn't recognize him.

Poor Klaus was barely capable of forming a response, and so just struggled, spluttering, until Vancha pressed a blade into his side.

"I know you know where they are," he said threateningly, and Mika and Arrow exchanged glances, unsure whether or not to intervene in such a bizarre and terrifying interrogation. There was always the possibility that Klaus _did_ know where they all were, but it seemed more and more likely that in fact losing his team had psychologically affected Vancha much more profoundly than any of them had realized. "If you don't tell me –"

"He doesn't know," Arrow insisted quickly, not wanting Vancha to follow through on whatever threat he was about to make. Vancha glanced up, eyes crazy, as though also mistaking Arrow for one of the many traitors. Young Klaus was in tears.

"I was going for a piss," he said. He was so pathetic and childish that Vancha released him with a grunt, looking down at his hands as though he couldn't quite believe anything like that had just happened. Arrow had been about to reveal the reason for their arrival and possibly shed some light on the disappearances Vancha had been experiencing, but suddenly it was not at all the right time.

"Sorry," Vancha said, suddenly looking as broken and wrecked as the rest of them. He had never been aggressive or unpleasant, and he had never turned on one of his own before, but Arrow realized looking at him that the betrayal he thought he was facing from his own was destroying him inside. "Just give me a minute," he said, as Klaus slowly edged outside, and retreated away from them all to sit alone under one of the pews, head in his hands.

Nothing about this was reassuring. If whatever they faced had broken even Vancha, there wasn't much hope for the rest of them.


	4. Chapter 4

HERE WE GO, this is where all the real stuff starts. Probably no more updates for a couple of days - I'm going to be working and going away etc etc etc boring. Enjoy!

* * *

Later, when Klaus had settled down again and Vancha had regained a sense of control over himself, the green-haired General attempted to lighten the mood. He was well known for his ability to carry on despite any challenges the world might have to throw at him, and he was forever the optimist.

"I wasn't expecting you three until you contacted me," he said, trying his best to sound cheerful. He reached inside one of his pockets and drew out a few vials of blood, which he passed to the three new arrivals. "I was expecting the Princes to send me some more useless youngsters. It's been impossible to really get them to understand the kind of mess we're in, round here."

As a display of his gratitude, Vancha actually went as far as to reach out a hand to grasp Mika's wrist, as though desperate for them not to leave. "I'm quite pleased to see you, actually," he continued, as though his actions hadn't already made that clear. Mika unsympathetically shook him off, but Vancha didn't seem to mind much. "I'm in desperate need of some comrades I can trust."

"We weren't expecting to come," Arrow revealed, happily accepting the blood and looking around to make sure Mika and Larten were doing the same. It wasn't the first time on their trip that he had felt like the leader, almost the parent. Larten's head injury had rendered him basically incapable of many things for a couple of days, and only now was he truly seeming like he was on his way to recovery - physically, at least. "We've been having some problems ourselves."

Vancha looked like the last thing in the world he wanted to hear about was _more_ problems, but he wearily motioned for Arrow to continue nevertheless.

"The Princes were sending Arra and I," Larten spoke up, having only just recovered from the shock of the news about Gunde. He had not known him well, but it seemed like every single thing was affecting him much more strongly when coupled with the disappearance of his mate and his best friend. "But we ran into Vampaneze on our way here."

Vancha grimaced, and nodded sympathetically. "Sorry," he said sincerely, having clearly put the state of the man and the mention of the Vampaneze together.

"She isn't dead," Arrow was quick to interject. He sensed that Larten wasn't going to be able to finish the story without any tears or at great enough speed, and so to save them all the trouble he took up the baton instead. "They were with Gavner, too, and neither is he. They're with the Vampaneze, as far as we can tell. We've been in constant contact with both of them, mainly Arra."

Vancha raised an eyebrow, as if he'd very much have liked to be told where the Vampaneze were so that he could finally get around to dispatching them. "Where are they?"

Larten was clearly getting sick of people asking that question. Arrow spoke for him again, before he could voice his frustration. "She doesn't know," he said. "We haven't gotten as far as asking Gavner that yet, but we assume he doesn't know either. He'd certainly have told us."

Vancha looked tired, and he let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry," he said, again, looking at all three of them one after the other. "I don't know where they are, if that's what you came to ask me."

Arrow shook his head quickly, sensing that Vancha was tiring of their conversation and was about to leave. "Don't you think it's strange?" he asked, and Klaus looked at him as though he had guessed what was coming. "Larten, Arra and Gavner were ambushed, as far as we know, by a group of Vampaneze, some of which they managed to kill. Larten was badly injured, and when he regained consciousness he was surrounded by the corpses of the Vampaneze they'd slaughtered but _without_ his comrades."

For a second it seemed that Vancha was on the verge of making a comment about the loyalty of some people being less than expected sometimes, but then he remembered the company he was in and stopped himself. It wouldn't have been helpful to start a feud with his only allies.

"The same Vampaneze that have Arra and Gavner have your Generals," Arrow explained eventually.

Mika frowned. "You've got no idea if that's true," he argued, growing angry that this had clearly been Arrow's whole plan all along and it had just turned out to be completely nonsensical. "You just don't believe that anyone would abandon the clan. We've wasted four nights coming here when we _could have_ been spending four nights actually looking for Vampaneze, and _now_ you tell us we're here _on a hunch_?"

Arrow whirled on him. "What was your plan?" he growled nastily. It had been a struggle even making it here with Mika and Larten obsessing every other minute about contacting Arra and Gavner, regardless of how little it was helping. There was only a certain amount of sympathy Arrow could muster, especially for Mika. Arrow couldn't bring himself to be too irritated with Larten - the man was losing his best friend and his mate and battling through a pretty serious injury at the same time. Mika was being just as pathetic but without any of the good reason. "Scour _all the corners of the globe_ until you caught scent of Arra?"

Vancha held up a hand to halt their argument. He looked like he was already berating himself for not having realized this sooner.

"Mika, it's not an unreasonable assumption," he considered carefully. Then he seemed to remember something.

"I was connected with Gunde," Vancha said, clicking his fingers as if he'd come up with a fault in Arrow's logic. "I searched for him a day or two after he disappeared, but the line is completely dead. He _cannot_ be alive."

This news clearly disturbed Mika and Larten. Until now, it had been just a matter of finding out where the Vampaneze were hiding, storming in and rescuing their captives. Now that they had more than two vampires and at least one of them was dead by now, everything seemed far bleaker.

"Perhaps they intended to kill Gunde from the outset," Arrow argued. "You were all actively looking for the Vampaneze. If they were intending to kill Gavner and Arra, why haven't they?"

None of them had an answer for that.

"I've heard of Vampaneze taking prisoners before," Vancha admitted. "It isn't so far-fetched that I couldn't believe it. But there must be something they _want_, otherwise what's their goal? If they just want to kill, they should leave the bodies out in the open – it is not noble to hide them away so that they might never be found. Vampaneze don't operate like that."

It was difficult, suddenly, for Arrow to listen to someone argue that the Vampaneze were inherently noble, as he imagined it probably was for Mika and Larten as well. It hadn't been long ago that he'd been crawling around country after country trying to rid the world of the purple vermin once and for all, consumed with bitterness over Sarah's death. It wasn't the right time to think about it, and Arrow clung to his sense of reason and overcame the urge to tell Vancha he was wrong.

Before anyone could respond, Klaus' head whirled around. It seemed that because the young vampire hadn't been involved much in the conversation, he had been able to hear something that the others had missed.

Before the others had even blinked, Vancha was on his feet. His months here and the men he'd lost had made him edgy and nervous, but no less of a warrior and no less brave. He stepped in front of Klaus immediately, facing the sound head on – but it soon became clear that this was no enemy, or at least it didn't sound like much of an invasion.

Something was scratching at one of the huge wooden doors at the front of the church, the ones Vancha had avoided opening in order not to arouse the suspicion of the humans. They all realized quickly that no enemy would have chosen to take such a ridiculous route into the building, especially when an entrance was carved out for them at the back where the vampires themselves had come in.

"Fucking cats," Vancha growled, having evidently experienced this before. There were a few animals in the world that could smell vampire blood from miles away and cats were some of the worst – they were everywhere, and they were usually aggressive. Most vampires hated them, but it was annoyingly quite important to try to avoid killing all of the neighbourhood cats in order to escape human detection.

With some effort, Vancha cracked open one of the huge entrance doors, hoping that it was late enough now that at least for a moment none of the humans would be able to notice. He had taken a small knife with him, evidently not prepared to show this one pesky creature any sympathy tonight.

Suddenly, he let out a roar of surprise and horror. The other vampires joined him immediately, adrenaline racing through their veins despite their exhaustion, and recoiled away from the sight Vancha had been faced with.

"Lars," Vancha whispered, horrified, and took a couple of steps back.

Lars had been reported a deserter and a traitor weeks ago now, but it was unmistakably him – his white blond hair identified him easily. It seemed that in the moments the vampires had spent stalling the last of his life had seeped out of him, and he now lay motionless on the steps, hands outstretched.

But that wasn't the most disturbing part.

It was Lars the General, Lars the_ person_, but as Larten bent down to look at him it was as if Lars had become something else – more animal than vampire. The skin was patchy and purple-tinged in places, and the lips were drawn back into a last vicious snarl, cuffs around wrists and ankles. Larten checked for a pulse again and again, convinced this must have been some kind of wicked game - but to no avail. There were broken bones showing through skin, endless bruises and a series of inflamed sites like huge insect bites on the arms. The lips were unusually red, and so were the nails. Nothing about any of it made sense, but there was no denying what they were seeing. Lars was, at least partly, _Vampaneze._


	5. Chapter 5

Many days earlier than planned, here is chapter five. This one's a bit gruesome.

* * *

Nobody slept again that day. Head against stone, Larten ignored the low chatter of the others as he tried to focus on Gavner.

It concerned him that he hadn't been able to get a hold of his friend properly; he was almost completely consumed by worry over Arra, but when he had stopped to think about it he had realized that it was at least promising that she was connecting to him. It was as if Gavner had been half-conscious the entire time, incapable of focus.

He had half-expected Gavner to come out with some humorous remark like he usually would have, but as soon as their minds joined it was clear that Gavner was in no mood for jokes. The connection wasn't anywhere as strong as it was with Arra, and as much as he concentrated there was simply no possibility of identifying Gavner's surroundings or sharing any of his emotions. Even his voice, though audible, was unclear.

_Where are you? _Larten knew there was no hope of a sufficiently helpful answer, but he was terrified of the connection breaking again, and it was the thing he needed to know most.

_No fucking idea _Gavner replied, and the tears sprang to Larten's eyes immediately. It was such a classic Gavner response, and without being able to connect sufficiently to be able to share his emotions, he could almost pretend everything was fine when he listened to him. _Have you heard from Arra?_

He sounded concerned.

_She's near you, in another cell. _

There was a few seconds' silence, and for a horrible moment Larten wondered if the connection was gone again. But then Gavner finally spoke.

_I know. I can hear her. _

Larten winced. It was as if Gavner's silence had been an indication of him trying to avoid saying that, knowing how it would have affected his friend. He didn't say it, but there was a feeling in Larten's mind that made it clear that he was sorry he'd mentioned her.

_How are we going to find you? _Larten said despairingly, desperately hoping that Gavner might somehow have an answer. It was a question that went round and round in his head every single second, and he just wanted someone to say _something_ to answer it because he couldn't think of a damn thing himself.

Gavner was silent again. _I don't think you will, _he said eventually, at length. _To be honest mate, I don't even think most of the bodies make it out of here._

Larten hissed, and tried not to allow himself to reveal anything about Lars. He didn't know if Gavner had any idea why he was being kept there, but he certainly didn't want to tell him about the discovery of the half-dead crossbreed unless it was completely necessary.

_I already know that's what they're doing _Gavner interrupted him suddenly, sadly. Larten cursed himself for not having been able to hide it, but he'd been so frightened of letting the connection slip that he hadn't been able to control it. He wondered how he would speak to Arra without letting it through. _And_ _I thought someone had escaped. They've stepped up their security since._

Larten nodded to himself, aware that Gavner couldn't see. He couldn't help picturing Gavner ruined like Lars, tortured and destroyed as part of some sick experiment.

_Thanks for that_ Gavner said, with the shadow of a chuckle that was really a sob.

It was unbearable. _I'll find you, _Larten promised tearfully. _I'll find both of you. Even if I have to search the world, I promise I'll do it. _

The connection snapped suddenly and Larten came back to reality with a jolt. What did that mean? He quickly tried to reconnect, but the same sort of dark haze he'd been receiving from Gavner the whole time was interfering again. He focused harder than ever, willing something to get through. For the briefest of moments it was as if he was somewhere else, and someone was in front of him, and his arm _hurt_, but then it was all black again and Larten had learned nothing.

Vancha sat down next to him as he came back again.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked, sympathy in his eyes. Vancha liked Arra and Gavner well enough, particularly Gavner, and would have been sorry to hear about them dying, but after what they'd experienced with Lars he'd seemingly started to really feel for those who really cared for them.

Larten quickly sniffed and casually swiped at his cheeks with his sleeve. Vancha pretended not to notice. "It was Gavner," he said. "I have not managed to get him to talk before."

Vancha stared back at him inquisitively but Larten sadly shook his head. "He does not know where they are being kept," he said crossly, angry with the entire situation. Even a hint would have been nice, even if it meant they had to travel a thousand miles – sitting and waiting when he knew his best friend and his mate might be about to be killed at any time was unbearable. "He knows he is with Arra, but he has not seen her. He knows about Lars."

Vancha exhaled sharply, clearly a little bit taken aback by that. He had been unable to discuss Lars for a few hours after they first found him, silently orchestrating a quick funeral for him and avoiding any discussion. None of them had fully been able to comprehend why the Vampaneze were doing something so hideous, but Vancha had been especially bothered by it.

"Does Arra know about Lars?"

Every time someone mentioned her name it was like daggers in his chest. Couldn't they all just stop talking about her? Larten shrugged.

"I do not know," he said. "I have not been able to reach her at all today."

The worried look on Vancha's face as soon as he'd said that was entirely unwelcome and Larten faced him with a glare.

"She's probably asleep," Vancha assured him weakly, but Larten was no longer in the mood for any conversation. He knew full well that she wasn't asleep, but he wouldn't be drawn into a discussion about what she was actually doing that rendered her incapable of talking back to him. He hadn't needed to think about it yet, and he didn't need to think about it now.

Without announcing it, Larten stepped outside – ostensibly in order to collect wood for the fire they hoped to make to fight off the cold, but really only for the air and the space to breathe. His head was throbbing still, and he found it difficult to perform much physically, but a lungful of the fresh night air was like medicine. If only his injury dulled his mind, he joked to himself, he would probably have felt a lot better.

Before he could make any move towards pretending to collect firewood, at least to bring back a few token twigs, something had crashed into him at full force and knocked him off balance. His head slowed his reactions terribly, and before he could even fathom what he was meant to be doing to defend himself there was a blade coming towards him and the sight of a looming purple face. Larten had a moment to acknowledge that it was all over, so quickly, before –

There was commotion, all around, and suddenly he was free of his assailant. By the time he looked up, the Vampaneze that had tried to attack him was completely without hands, and groaning loudly in agony, blood pulsing from his wrists.

"_Don't kill him!_" Mika instructed, unceremoniously hauling Larten to his feet without bothering to check whether he was injured. His head throbbed so hard that his vision blurred and he stumbled sideways, but he managed to keep his footing, cursing himself for being so weak all the while.

The Vampaneze was growling and looking for an escape route, but somewhere along the line Arrow had wisely stabbed him in the thigh for good measure, just to make sure he was incapable of running. It was horrible to watch, for the most part – the Vampaneze was in clear shock, gibbering and shaking uncontrollably – but there was a part of Larten that he had never known existed that felt as though this was _right. _

If _these things_ were going to hurt Gavner or Arra, he wanted to hurt them too.

As they made their way inside, Arrow hauled the helpless Vampaneze up against one of the pews. He hopelessly tried to reach for his second knife without his hands, and at the sight of his desperation Arrow – looking more and more like the man who had killed these for pleasure – simply laughed.

Mika was disgusted rather than at all amused, and recognized the necessity of moving quickly before the Vampaneze was rendered useless by blood loss. He brushed Arrow aside with a look that betrayed how disgusted he felt at the way his brother was behaving, and knelt in front of the assailant.

"Where were you going to take him?" Mika asked, seemingly either on board now with Arrow's theory or without any other line of questioning.

It was hopeless to interrogate Vampaneze and they all knew it. It was no surprise when their injured prisoner spat at the General instead of providing a response.

"Now!" the Vampaneze howled, and for a second the vampires had no idea what he meant. Then Arrow spun around, convinced that at any second they were to be confronted with a whole hoard of the purple monsters.

Indeed, the Vampaneze was convinced of that too. It was all too clear from the look in his eyes when he realized there was nobody there to hear his call that he felt he'd been betrayed by his comrades. They had planned an ambush, and for one reason or another, the others had fled – perhaps on seeing the number of vampires inside, or on seeing how swiftly they had destroyed the leader of their group.

"You weren't alone," Mika concluded, ever the statesman. "You wanted to take us where you've taken our friends."

The Vampaneze, crazed by his injuries and by the shock and sting of being abandoned in his final hour, just laughed. "Clever fucking vampires," he replied sarcastically, finding the energy from somewhere to swing one of his useless arms at Mika in order to paint the General in his blood.

Mika shuddered visibly, but continued.

"Where are they?" he demanded, sounding as imperious as possible for a man consumed with such desperation. "You owe your comrades nothing; what have they done for you?" This seemed to touch a nerve, and the Vampaneze spat at him again. This time Mika delivered him with a backhand that nearly broke his neck.

"_Where are they?_"

The Vampaneze hissed. "They'll be alright," he said, eyes half-closing. "They're going to be part of the new world. You should be _happy_ for them."

It seemed that Mika had lost his patience. It was too soon to end it, but the dark General was shaking with the effort of having to listen to any of the words coming out of the Vampaneze's mouth – and before Larten could step forward to ask what _new world _he meant, Mika had snapped his neck.

Arrow laughed darkly. "I thought you were known for your diplomacy," he taunted.

It was like the sight of a Vampaneze that was theirs to destroy was too much for him, and it had brought him back years to his deep set hatred of them. He looked the body over like nothing more than dead meat and might have been about to touch it, but Mika waved him away.

The blood was dripping into his eyes and he wiped at it with the edge of his sleeve before turning to the rest of the group. Arrow was still looking strangely belligerent, as if he was desperate to kill one of his own, and Vancha was looking significantly disturbed. Larten wondered how he looked, and hoped his own shadow of hatred for the Vampaneze didn't make him anything like Arrow.

"The _new world_," Mika repeated, clearly coming to the same conclusion as Larten that he might have ended their prisoner's life too soon. He looked confused and worried, but for Larten it was already completely clear.

"They are making a new race," he said numbly, barely even registering that the words were coming out of his mouth. It all made sense suddenly – what they'd done to Lars hadn't been some bizarre form of torture, and they hadn't meant to kill him or to allow him to escape. _This_ was why they weren't trying to kill any of their captives. They were trying to take the first step towards eliminating the difference between vampires and Vampaneze after all these years – it was a peace-building mission disguised as a war.

Larten clenched his jaw. Whatever it was, he contemplated while staring at the river of blood seeping between the stones around the dead Vampaneze, it was _sick_.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for all the reviews so far, I really appreciate all of them even if they're only a few words. A lot happens in this chapter - I hope those of you reading will enjoy it as much as you have the other so far!

* * *

Capturing and disposing of the Vampaneze that had tried to kill him four nights ago had given the entire group a bizarre sense of satisfaction, but in reality had brought them no closer to deciding on their next move. Larten had played the events over in his head a thousand times since then, particularly that look in their captive's eyes when he realized the rest of his team were not planning on making their move. Nothing about that made sense – Larten's dealings with Vampaneze were limited in comparison to the other members of the group, but even he knew that they didn't lie.

Years ago, the Vamapaneze had been a puzzle to him somewhat, and he had always wondered whether they were simply heartless killers or whether vampires were just incapable of understanding them. Larten grappled with this question now more than ever. Seba had told him once that, though most vampires despised them and would have gladly hunted them for sport, Vampaneze led their lives based on a strict moral code and were just as worthy of respect as any vampire. This was not a popular view – and one Larten certainly didn't intend to share with his current group – but Seba always had been level-headed. Though the vampires were fiercely loyal to the clan, Seba had explained, in the absence of that hierarchical structure Vampaneze held that same level of loyalty to _one another_. To Vampaneze, everyone was worth exactly the same – it was a _no man left behind_ kind of mentality.

What, then, could have possessed them to leave a man behind? Was their mission so important to them that, for once in their whole existence, their own loyalty was taking a back seat?

His head was throbbing again, half from his injury and half from turning the questions over and over so many times. Something smashed loudly in another room, mercifully distracting him from his thoughts – and deciding it was unbearable to sit and think about the Vampaneze any longer, Larten dragged himself wearily to his feet to investigate. It didn't occur to him to pick up a weapon on his way out. He was too exhausted, mentally and physically, to even contemplate facing an enemy.

It was not an enemy, but rather a pair of Generals who were trying and failing to prepare a proper meal for themselves. Seba had always stressed the importance of being able to prepare a nutritious meal using any available methods, but it seemed Paris Skyle had not necessarily instilled the same opinion in Mika and Arrow. They weren't able to hunt much here for fear of being noticed by the local population, and equally they were not able to stay in any hotel or dine out. Instead, they had been reduced to preparing food like humans. Fortunately, they had also managed to make the move from an abandoned church into an abandoned house, which was far more pleasant – even if Vancha did insist on sleeping either on the ruined wooden floor or even sometimes outside, under the shade of the trees.

"You idiot," Arrow was saying to Mika, while Klaus quietly hissed in the background and delicately picked out shards of glass from his foot. The whole scene would have been comical if Larten hadn't been so exhausted or so depressed. Mika, having clearly swept almost an entire row of glasses off of the counter in an effort to reach for a pan, looked completely unfazed.

He looked unfazed increasingly often in the nights since their Vampaneze encounter, and Larten imagined he looked the same. Watching him, it was as if Mika had no motivation for anything anymore – it seemed that nothing shocked or scared him, and nothing was truly important to him anymore if it did not relate directly to their mission, killing Vampaneze or locating Arra. Caring little about the mess he'd made, Mika skulked away into another room without another word. It seemed for a second that Arrow might call him back, but Larten spoke first.

"Where is Vancha?" he asked, and his voice came out as a long croak. It was only then that he realized this was the first time he'd spoken in two nights, and everyone in the room was staring at him oddly as if they'd forgotten he was with them at all.

Arrow seemed to take the excuse provided by Larten saying his first words in several whole days in order to stop trying to cook. He took a seat on one of the weak wooden kitchen chairs, which creaked loudly under his weight.

"Vancha has started trying to track the Vampaneze," Arrow explained after Larten had taken the seat across from him.

That was certainly a surprise. Larten glanced around again as if in disbelief. "_Alone?_" he asked, and Arrow held a hand up straight away to stop him from the lecture he was clearly about to launch into about the perils of acting alone in the face of such grave danger.

"He insisted," Arrow said, looking like he didn't agree with Vancha's actions either. The green-haired General was known for his courage, but sometimes it almost crossed the line into foolishness. Unfortunately, he was also known for his stubbornness, and Larten realized the rest of the group had probably been facing an impossible task when trying to talk him out of it.

Arrow sighed heavily. "He blames himself for this," he said sadly. "It is clear to me that Vancha feels that if he had been able to assert control over this mission when he first arrived here, none of his Generals would be missing and Lars would not be dead," he took a moment and then added; "and Gavner and Arra would not be in their current predicament."

It was impossible for Larten not to feel a little like that was true, despite his best attempts to remain impartial. Vancha was a great vampire, he knew, but he couldn't help thinking that if only he'd managed to eliminate the rogues a few months ago none of them would have been in this position at all. If only Vancha had kept proper control, he, Gavner and Arra might never have needed to leave the Mountain at all. It was a terribly unfair way to look at what was really just an unfortunate turn of fate, but it was hard to stop.

Before they could discuss Vancha in any further detail, the man himself swung through one of the windows – they were holes in the walls, really, all the glass having been knocked out of them long before the vampires had settled here. He had a kind of wild look in his eyes, and before either of them could question him, he stumbled forward into the table, one hand clutching his side.

While Arrow was still staring at the other General oddly, Larten caught sight of the blood on his hands.

"Bit of a run in," Vancha wheezed out, breathless and in pain. The other three men in the room had swooped in instantly to support him and guide him into a chair to assess the damage. "Turns out there are _a lot_ of Vampaneze in this little town."

Mika had heard the commotion and hurried back, and now knelt in front of the injured General.

"How seriously are you hurt?" he asked, almost business-like, while Klaus set about trying to rub spit into Vancha's wounds.

Vancha let out a wheezy laugh, seeming almost exhilarated by his experience. He even managed a lopsided grin, though his eyes betrayed the pain he was in.

"You won't be getting rid of me _any_ time soon," he said, hissing in pain. The knife wound one of the Vampaneze had managed to inflict upon him looked nasty, but he seemed to have miraculously escape too much damage. After a few moments of Klaus' attention, the blood flo0w had almost completely stopped.

"There were eight or nine of the bastards," Vancha continued. Arrow and Larten shared a quick glance, as though trying not to say _I told you so_ to the brave older General. It had been foolish rather than courageous this time to head out on his own, and he had nearly paid with his life for it. "I don't know what they were doing, but it looks like they're travelling in fucking _packs_ like the dogs they are. I was following them and one of them caught scent of me and –"

Though Larten had been listening intently to Vancha's account, there was a sudden nagging in the back of his mind somewhere and he instantly focused hard on it, recognizing the feeling.

_Where are you?_

It was Arra. The question was almost heart-breaking to hear; he imagined she hadn't meant it to sound so desperate, but it had come out that way nevertheless. He struggled to find a way to express to her that he was trying _as hard as he could_ to reach the two of them, but that it was proving almost impossible.

_I am trying my best, _he responded, trying his best to control his thoughts. He didn't want her to know that they were no closer to discovering where the Vampaneze might be keeping them than they had been over a fortnight ago. The idea that it had been that long struck him, suddenly, and his chest tightened – it was remarkable, really, that they were still alive.

_No_, she replied instantly. _Where are you? Where are you _now_?_

He couldn't fathom why she might need to know that, but he decided it best to tell her anyway. _In the Mountains, with Vancha,_ he returned. _It is a place called Chamonix._

After that, there was a long silence. When it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything, he continued.

_What is happening? _he asked, without really wanting to know the answer. This was a nightly ritual for them – every night when he managed to get a hold of her, he would always ask her what was happening and whether she was alright, and every night she dodged the question. It was as if she could feel it in his thoughts that he dreaded hearing the answer, and decided to leave the question hanging every time as a result.

This time, though, it was different.

_I've escaped. _

It took him a moment to fully understand what she was saying, but when he did the joy that washed through him suddenly was incredible. He was full of questions and praise, and the amount he had to say to her suddenly jumbled his mind. Before he could manage to decide on which thought to pursue, she was talking again.

_They've been draining us of blood s_he told him, with a sense of urgency that washed away any of the elation he'd been feeling a moment ago. _I can't flit, and they're following me. I can sense it._

Suddenly he couldn't think of any helpful advice to give her. He wanted her here, _now_, or for her to somehow know where she was so that they could all ride in and save her immediately – but there was no telling how far away she really was. It was an impossible position to be in; she was being hounded, time was running out, but could she even name the _continent_ she was in?

_Where are you? _he demanded suddenly. _Anything you can tell me would be useful. Is there snow, is there heat?_

He could feel a sudden change in mood from her. Unconsciously, he was digging his nails into the counter. Arrow had placed a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed it off instantly, terrified of any distractions.

_I can't take them to you_ she said, calmer than before. _I don't know what I was thinking. _

He could feel her slipping away. He understood what she meant – she feared bringing the Vampaneze to their doorstep, even if she could locate it, because she was convinced they would all be killed or captured, and then none of them would have _any_ hope of rescue or survival. It was noble, but it was stupid.

_Where are you? _he begged, panic rushing through him in waves.

_I'm on a mountainside, _she told him, and he stared out of the window at the huge towering mountains outside, mouth agape. _It's tough terrain, and I'm weak. _

His thoughts were slipping out faster than he wanted them to. All that mattered now was her – and if they all had to die trying to help her then that, he realized, was what he wanted.

_Don't do this _he ordered, gasping for breath and grasping for something to say to convince her. It _couldn't_ be too late, it _couldn't_ end like this.

When she next spoke, her voice was hard and cold, like she was resigned to her fate.

_I'll kill as many as I can, _she promised. _Promise me you'll look for Gavner. You're looking for a cave that leads underground on a mountainside. _

_No!_ he shouted in his mind, and then when Arrow jumped back he realized he'd shouted it out loud, too. Was it too much, just this once, that she listened to him? _If you run to us, we will not let them hurt you. You're close. You can't give up now._

None of that convinced her. _Promise you'll find Gavner_ she said again, and he could hear the sadness and the fear in her words. His thoughts were screaming for her to run or hide or at least _try_ to live through this.

_You can't do this, _he was crying out, and one of his tears landed on his clenched fist. _You can't leave me like this. I won't be able to carry on, without you. _

That was one of the most raw, emotional confessions she'd ever heard from him, and it must have ripped her apart to hear it.

_I'm sorry, _she half-sobbed. _I love you._

With that, before he'd even had a moments chance to return the sentiment, the connection abruptly snapped. Larten fell to his knees instantly, involuntarily, but then instantly knew what he had to do and scrambled back to his feet. Klaus had been assigned the job of caring for Vancha as soon as it had seemed Larten was talking to Arra – and now Mika and Arrow were all over him.

Before he could make any sense of what they were saying, he was racing to pick up weapons.

"We haven't got time for questions," he said hoarsely, heart thundering in his ears. Mika and Arrow were staring at him dumbly, and he gestured wildly to their collection of swords and knives, clearly indicating that they ought to take some themselves and join him. Without stopping to give them any answers as to where they might be going or how they ought to prepare, Larten was running as fast as he could out into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

Yeeeahhh this chapter has been impossible. I hope it doesn't show too much in the finished product!

On another note I was so pleased with the reviews on the last chapter as well as all the reviews so far. Thank you rowanrawr, Wiccanpentagram, SweetLittleOldLady and roxypony - really hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last!

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It was over an hour later – an hour of fruitlessly listening for the noise of every snapping twig and every rustle on the ground over the high winds – when Larten finally came to a halt. He was exhausted, his head was throbbing again, this time so strongly that it almost obscured his own thoughts, and his mission was beginning to look hopeless. Arra had been right; this was tough terrain, and there was never going to be enough time to scour the entire mountain range before something could happen to her. Gulping in a few lungfuls of air, he took a seat briefly on the edge of a jagged rock protruding from the ground while he considered what his next move might be.

It took a minute or so, but Mika and Arrow eventually caught up to him. His head was in his hands and he didn't bother to look up to greet them, but instead of allowing him the few moments to think that he wanted, Arrow sat down beside him immediately.

"What are you looking for?" he demanded quickly. It was clear that the two Generals had been discussing his bizarre behaviour all the way here from their safe distance behind him. It wasn't entirely sensible, but he had refused to answer their questions on their ascent, too focused on listening out for any noises that might have been important to his quest. They had an idea that it was something urgent from his behaviour back at their base, and they had known it was something to do with Arra, but nothing else was clear yet.

Larten supposed it was unfair to keep them tagging along on this possibly suicidal mission without at least letting them know what they might be facing. "It is Arra," he explained, trying to concentrate over the roaring pain spreading through his temples. When he took a moment to continue, he could feel Arrow's impatience.

"She has escaped," he explained. Arrow, as ever, gave absolutely nothing away in his response to that, but there was a sharp intake of breath from Mika, who now sat across from the two of them.

Telling the story of what might have been their last conversation was painful but necessary, and Larten clenched a fist. "She was being followed," he said, voice cracking. "They know she is gone. She wanted to know our location, so she could find us."

Arrow's brow furrowed. "Then why are we out here?" he asked, sounding vaguely irritated. It was freezing up high, even for vampires, and without any of the appropriate clothing the biting cold wind was hard to bear.

"Then she told me she wasn't well; she was too exhausted to run," Larten continued, his usual precise grammar slipping again as his emotions got the better of him. He was suddenly wary of his two companions judging him for not managing to convince her out of the decision she'd made, but it was too late to back out of telling the story now. "She changed her mind completely, and said she'd never be able to go fast enough to escape them. Even if she could have reached us, she didn't want to put all of us in danger."

There was a short silence.

"That's ridiculous," Mika breathed. "She would never have…we are not scared of the Vampaneze. She would have known that she'd be safe with us."

It felt a lot like Mika was accusing him suddenly, and Larten threw his arms out wide.

"I tried telling her!" he cried, frustrated and angry and _not_ happy to be accused of letting her down. "She wouldn't listen!"

Mika looked like he could hardly believe this entire conversation was happening. "She's not stupid," he argued weakly, unable to believe that any of this was really occurring – and unwilling to take Larten's word for it. "And she wouldn't go down like that without a fight. She can't just have been _too tired_ to escape them – that's not like her."

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Arrow might have rolled his eyes. He could feel the tension between the other two men rising and he was glad to be there to mediate before the two forgot all about their lost loved ones and slaughtered each other instead.

"I don't think _too tired_ is what she meant," Larten bit back, trying to keep the vicious edge out of his voice but failing considerably. Before either of them could say anything else, Arrow held up a hand to halt their discussion.

"This doesn't entirely explain why we're _here_," Arrow said patiently, gesturing to their surroundings, carefully trying not to anger Larten any further. "Did she tell you where the Vampaneze had been keeping her?"

Larten sighed heavily. "She told me a cave, on a mountainside," he said shortly, as though that simple sentence might explain everything. Unfortunately, it didn't quite. The other two Generals exchanged a glance.

"Near here, I assume?" Arrow pushed, desperate for some confirmation that they hadn't been entirely on a wild goose chase. "Did she mention Chamonix?"

Larten laughed humourlessly, as though the question was completely ridiculous. "Obviously not," he hissed, growing impatient with the endless questioning and becoming eager to get going again. "I've told you before that she doesn't know where she is."

Mika, who had started looking significantly more desperate since Larten's revelations about Arra, was beginning to look like he felt their mission was hopeless. "Are you saying," he began slowly, with an undercurrent of fury. "That you've actually got _no idea_ where she is?"

Larten was so angry this time, and so restless, that he sprung to his feet. "It's not all a coincidence!" he barked. He turned to Arrow for approval. "You said so yourself, it's all connected – Arra and Gavner and all of Vancha's missing party – so when she said a _mountainside_, it was all clear. It _must_ be here."

Arrow stared back at him, dumbfounded. It wasn't like Larten to be so unreasonable, and he supposed it was either the onset of grief for his mate (who was obviously, by now, deceased) or his head injury that was making him act so irrationally. They were surrounded by mountains on every side, the whole range maybe hundreds of miles long – there was no way of knowing that they had accidentally set up next door to the exact place that the Vampaneze were holding their friends. It was incredibly unlikely at best.

This realization had struck Mika too, and he rubbed his eyes wearily.

Arrow suspected that Larten knew deep down that the chances of just magically _running into_ her were one in a million. Unfortunately he was still on his feet looking to begin the next stage of their search, and Mika's head was in his hands now, so it was up to Arrow to break the news gently.

"Larten," he started kindly, trying not to feel annoyed that they'd ventured out into the ice for nothing. He stood and waved a hand across the landscape – all icy mountain tops as far as the eye could see – to demonstrate how huge the distance really was. "They could be anywhere. _She_ could be anywhere."

Larten had heard him, but it was like he wasn't willing to listen.

"We need to keep moving," he said, bypassing Arrow's comments entirely. His eyes were fixed ahead, planning his route, and the older General sighed.

"There's no point," he said quietly, and though Larten's mouth twitched as though he wanted to argue with that, in the end he said nothing at all. "If she's taking them away from us, she won't be anywhere near here by now."

What he really wanted to say was that if she was even a little bit weakened, she wouldn't be here _at all_ anymore, but that was too harsh. Neither of the other two vampires he stood with were prepared to hear that yet.

"There's no point in wasting time arguing, then," Mika said, and though Arrow glanced at him in disbelief, he simply shook his head. He was devoted already to his cause – they were going to find her tonight, dead or alive.

"It's nearly dawn," Arrow argued wearily, already knowing that it would be impossible to talk Mika round. "Why not come back with me, for now, and head out again at sunset?"

He was trying his best to subtly suggest that the next ten hours would make no difference to her chances of survival – because she was already _dead_ – but neither of them took it as such.

"We haven't any time for that," Larten said decisively, and Mika nodded. One of them was delusional and the other was simply grimly determined to follow through. Arrow sighed, and accepted defeat.

"Alright," he said, unwilling to leave the two of them out here unattended all night. He was half-convinced that without his influence they might carry on searching forever and burn to death in the sunlight. "We'll give it another couple of hours, then."

Before he'd even finished speaking the two of them had set off, hopelessly, in search of nothing. A vampire's hearing was exceptional, Arrow knew, and these hills were quiet for miles – if either Arra or the Vampaneze were here, they were as silent as the dead.

* * *

Three hours later, as the sun was rising, the three vampires trudged back to their base. Larten had taken some convincing, but luckily Mika had known when to quit – it had caused an almighty row that had ended with Larten furiously accusing the two of them of abandoning her and not caring whether she lived or died.

In the end, though, that hadn't mattered. An hour ago Mika had wisely remembered to check to see if he could connect to her, mentally – and found her still there, as ever. With the appropriate words of comfort, Larten had been reassured that if she was alive now, she would still be alive at sunset. The Vampaneze wouldn't be able to trail her with the sun on their backs.

Though he didn't doubt that Mika had been telling the truth, Arrow couldn't help wondering how she'd managed it. He still remembered Arra as a youngster, and felt she was still mostly as reckless as she had been then – it had been reckless and foolish to try and escape knowing that the Vampaneze would give chase and knowing that she wasn't strong enough to escape them, and it was only a matter of time before that same reckless attitude would see her killed. He was surprised it hadn't turned out to be tonight – but glad all the same, if only for Mika's sake.

Young Klaus met the exhausted pack of hunters at the door, his usual look of panic plastered across his face. The three returning vampires were too exhausted and saddened to pay much attention to him, and Mika brushed him out of the way unceremoniously when he headed inside.

"I've been wondering what happened to all of you," he said, as they all rudely shoved past him on their way inside. "Vancha's gone, again."

Though he really couldn't bear any more dramatic twists tonight, Mika could hardly ignore that.

"Why?" he asked, unable to bring himself to come up with a better line of questioning. Vancha was tough, probably the toughest of all of them, and he very much doubted even with his earlier injury he would have gotten into any serious trouble. Besides, he was still consumed with worry over Arra – too much to bring himself to wonder too much about what had happened to the green-haired General.

"Vampaneze," Klaus explained. "Three or four of them were skirting around, just outside, when he saw something and said he needed to go."

Mika almost shook his head. Vancha lived to chase thrills, even if those thrills did nearly kill him half the time. Chasing after three or four Vampaneze with a fresh wound was something only Vancha would have attempted. Klaus looked so distressed that Mika felt a brief need to reassure him that Vancha was unlikely to have gotten himself killed – it seemed that almost nothing was capable of killing that man – but before he had the chance the door was open again and Vancha was standing there like a hero returning from battle, bloodied and beaten but proud.

He clicked his fingers when he saw Mika and grinned.

"I've located something that might be of interest to you!" he said, cheerful despite his injuries.

He waited for a moment, looking outside, and Mika almost didn't dare hope – it was too good to be true, surely, too much to wish for – but sure enough after a second Arra, limping, pale and significantly less jubilant than Vancha, joined him in the doorway.

It felt like the right moment to shout for Larten and Arrow, but his hand was clasped over his mouth in shock and delight. He very nearly stumbled backwards in his surprise, but Klaus had laid a hand on his back already which fortunately saved him. His joy lasted only a few blissful moments, though, before one of her hands gripped Vancha's arm briefly and she collapsed against one of the walls.


	8. Chapter 8

She was still unconscious. The sun was beating through into most of the building now, and so they had all retreated as they did every day into the basement. It wasn't comfortable, but they were significantly safer down here from any ambush than they were above ground, and they had plenty of space to move most of the bedding from the other floors to create comfortable nests for themselves (or, in Vancha's case, plenty of floor to spread out on). Today, though, they lay Arra out among all the blankets in the middle of the floor – they all knew they wouldn't be getting any sleep.

Larten hurriedly checked for a pulse – he watched her chest rise and fall, and even saw her fingers twitch too – but she looked so completely _wrong_ that it was hard to believe, even with all the evidence, that she really was alive. She was so pale that her skin was almost translucent, every vein visible beneath the surface.

The moment that they'd all discovered Lars collapsed outside their hideout came back to him in a nauseating rush as his hand accidentally brushed against one of her arms. The same huge flame-red infected insect stings were up and down her left arm, with a few in such close proximity to each other at her wrist that they all seemed to merge into one. In a moment of blind panic, he flipped her arm around to examine her fingernails, and then her lips and eyes, but even though he focused as hard as he could, there wasn't a tinge of red anywhere – if anything, her lips were paler than he'd ever seen them.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. She was by no means out of the woods, but at least it didn't look like she was on the verge of meeting Lars' fate.

Arrow, having already concluded that she looked like she hadn't fed, had withdrawn a couple of the vials of blood he always carried from one of his pockets. Vancha had disappeared with Klaus as soon as they'd brought her downstairs, and Larten and Mika were looking predictably useless, so it was up to him to take some sort of step towards reviving her.

It was impossible to turn her head appropriately to make her swallow, and on his first attempt almost everything he tried to feed her spilled over her jaw and throat. Before he could make a second attempt Vancha had swatted him away.

"You'll choke her like that," he said impatiently, looking as if he despaired of the other vampires' attempts to help since he'd been away. It was clear from the slightly superior look on his face that he considered himself the only useful one here – the three of them had wasted most of the night searching deserted mountains and he'd had to nearly kill himself in the end to save their missing comrade, after all.

He rolled back both of his sleeves and nudged Arrow away. While he and Klaus had been upstairs it seemed they'd located a short length of rope that Vancha was now grasping in his right hand. Suddenly, while all the other vampires observed him, he made a long incision across his left palm with a thumbnail.

"She needs a transfusion," Vancha explained, when it looked like none of them had any idea what his intentions were. He did the same to her hand, before any of them could voice an objection, and then pressed it into the floor with his own while Klaus diligently looped the rope around their hands to secure them together.

Arrow glanced at Mika and Larten – and saw the same complete confusion on their faces as he imagined was displayed on his own. He was a little ashamed that none of them had thought of this, but equally he'd never seen anyone give another vampire blood in such a bizarre way. He supposed it made sense; it would have been difficult to hold her fingertips in the correct position for long enough to make any sort of transfer if even holding her head had been difficult, but that didn't explain –

"Why the rope?" Mika croaked, voicing the exact question that had been on Arrow's mind.

Vancha grimaced. "Because if she wakes up, I don't want her to pull away."

That didn't make much sense either, but before Larten could chime in with another question about his methods, Vancha sighed impatiently.

"Forgotten about Lars, have you?" he barked at all of them, hissing in pain a moment after. They had all been blooded, and some had blooded others, and they well remembered the pain he was in – but it seemed like it must have been more than that, if even Vancha was struggling to grin and bear it.

"She's not been turned, though," Arrow argued, wondering for a moment if Vancha had finally gone completely mad – it had always seemed like it was probably only a matter of time. They all nodded in agreement and bent to look at her fingernails and hair and lips, as if Vancha might not have thought of that, but he ignored their ignorance.

"What are these, then?" Vancha growled, gesturing with his free hand to the enflamed red marks that lined her arm. That was a revelation, to the rest of them – it seemed that somehow, Vancha was far, far ahead of them all when it came to the ins and outs of this process. They had all known they were wounds, but it hadn't occurred to any of them until now that they were connected to the Vampaneze's attempts to turn her. Larten looked at them all again, lining her arms along the prominent veins, and his stomach lurched nauseatingly.

"I can smell it on her," Vancha said grimly, wincing again. "And if she's got any Vampaneze blood in her at all, this is going to _really_ hurt."

Mika and Arrow exchanged another glance, wondering if Vancha really _was_ mad, but Larten gasped. He could smell it too, if only faintly. The smell of the blood on Vancha's hands and on his clothes was different than the smell of it _in_ her. It was alive; pulsing underneath the surface gently like it would in a _real _Vampaneze. His stomach twisted violently again.

"Luckily for you," Vancha continued through his teeth, jaw clamped shut against the pain. "I know _exactly_ what I'm doing."

It wasn't the time to ask how or why, so the rest simply sat and stared at the scene in front of them. There was a question whirring in the back of Arrow's mind about how dangerous, exactly, this was – they had all seen first-hand the state of Lars, and the last thing they needed was for both Arra and Vancha to end up in the same state – and just as he thought it, Vancha quirked his head to the side to signal for Arrow to join him. Suddenly, miraculously, Arra's eyes were wide open, but there was no time to rejoice about that.

"Klaus, get back," he said, almost fatherly, and then turned to Arrow. He was shaking from the pain, and panting as if holding his hand there was terribly exhausting.

"I'm going to take the rope away," he said, clearly trying as hard as he could to speak clearly while he clumsily untied a few of the knots Klaus had tied. "And then I'm going to stand up. You need to hold her down, _hard_. I don't trust the other two – if you have to hurt her to keep her still, _do_."

Vancha looked around at the rest of them. "Don't come near me, when I move away from her," he ordered them all, that look of grim determination on his face again. It was another one of those moments when Arrow wondered whether he had finally crossed the line from courage into stupidity.

Arrow had a million questions to ask, but all too suddenly Vancha was ripping away from them, tearing into another corner of the room instantly. For a split second, hands on Arra's shoulders obediently, it looked like nothing was going to happen at all. Their eyes even met, for a second, and it looked like she might be finally coming round.

Luckily, out of respect for Vancha's orders, he had not released her by the time that moment of lucidity was over and her whole body thrashed violently, nearly throwing him away from her. It was impossible to keep her _still _as Vancha had instructed with her convulsing so strongly, but when he sat with his whole body weight on her legs and pressed forward as hard as he could onto her arms, she was mostly contained. They were screaming so loudly – her _and _Vancha – that his eardrums felt about to burst.

Though it felt like hours, it was all silent within a minute. She was twitching lightly still, but when Arrow finally plucked up the courage to find out if she'd survived she was staring up at him blearily.

Nobody dared go against Vancha's wishes for them not to come near him, but Arrow looked over his shoulder at the brave General as soon as he'd ascertained that Arra's terrifying episode was finished. He was slumped in the corner, hacking horribly, but his eyes were open.

"It's done," he gasped out, and at that Klaus scurried over to help him. Eventually, through his panting and choking, he managed a half-smile. "Tell her – tell her thank me – at sunset!"

It seemed he'd walked the line between bravery and death again successfully - and Arrow reminded himself in that moment never to doubt the green-haired eccentric again. Vancha March really was a hero.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for the lack of updates! I've been struggling with deadlines and finances and my job all at the same time. Hope this chapter is enjoyable anyway, hopefully the next one will come within a week or so!

* * *

It was going to take weeks – maybe even months – for the two of them to fully recover, but unfortunately the vampires did not have that time to spare. It had been tempting to allow Vancha and Arra to rest when at sunset they were both still fast asleep, but there was no hope of locating the Vampaneze and more importantly Gavner without their help. Without Arra they would be no closer to knowing his location, and Vancha – well, after his performance yesterday the whole group scarcely felt capable of doing anything without his leadership.

"Can you remember where they are?" Vancha went straight in with the big question without bothering with the usual pleasantries. As they had risen at sunset Arra had taken him outside a moment to express her gratitude – but now that was done, he continued as usual, his whole heroic rescue forgotten about. They liked each other well enough, but Vancha didn't consider any of his actions unusual or beyond the call of duty, and so to him now that they were both alive and well their relationship was unchanged.

Vancha was clearly unwell – his eyes were dull and he had struggled to clamber to his feet this morning and make it to the kitchen – but now he looked ready for anything, like he always did, and it was clear already that he intended to locate the Vampaneze immediately, with Arra's help. His dedication to his missing party was outstanding.

Arrow and Mika stared at her in anticipation while Larten's eyes remained fixed on Vancha. It had been an hour now since they'd all assembled upstairs and in all that time he hadn't found the need to look at her or speak to her once. Arra had an uncomfortable feeling that she knew exactly why.

After a moment, she nodded.

"At first, when I left, I intended to come to you," she explained. "I was trying to remember the route, so that I could explain it to you when I arrived."

As her eyes slid towards Larten, he looked away. She didn't know he'd revealed the details of their conversation to Mika and Arrow, but she felt guilty now for leading him to believe that she had taken the Vampaneze away and eventually been either re-captured or killed by them. Of course, she had intended on that – when he'd mentioned Chamonix it hadn't rung any bells, and she hadn't known whether she was going towards or away from the town when Vancha had intervened, let alone that she was _inside_ it. She couldn't remember exactly how he'd look when she'd arrived at their door yesterday, but she remembered his hands on her arms every time she'd woken up shaking and his voice in her ear telling her it would be alright. It was as if since she'd stopped being in danger of death he'd lost all interest in her entirely.

"I lost track of the route a little on the way into Chamonix," she continued, after failing to catch his eye. "But that must have only been the last few miles. I'm sure I could find my way back."

Vancha nodded. "Good," he said, with some finality, and then clambered to his feet again. He carefully pretended not to be affected by his injuries and their blooding fiasco, but it was a poor façade. "We'll leave it until midnight," he suggested to the group. "Just in order to give Arra a few hours to regain some of her strength. Then, we will find the Vampaneze."

Mika and Arrow stared back at him, open mouthed, but before they could comment he was already shuffling away into another room, undoubtedly for some necessary rest before embarking on their latest mission.

"You can't go," Arrow said instantly, more of a factual statement than a question, looking across the table at Arra. He laughed hollowly. "You're no use to man nor beast, the way you're looking tonight. We will find Gavner tomorrow night – or when you are ready to guide us."

"If Vancha is up to it," she said diplomatically. "Then so am I."

The truth was, though, that she wasn't. Arra had never felt weaker physically and could scarcely remember a time in her life that she'd felt so mentally vulnerable – every time she closed her eyes she was still _there _with her captors, and nothing, not even brief bouts of sleep, had been able to rescue her from that. Even in her dreams they were still there, red eyes taunting her – and worse even than that was the guilt. She was ashamed to have run away, especially because it had involved leaving Gavner. She had tried not to consider it, but she knew she hadn't been far from death or some other worse fate when she'd made her big escape attempt, and it physically pained her to think about Gavner in that position, probably knowing that she'd gotten away and paying for it accordingly, like they both had done when Lars had run. They were not far apart in age but Gavner was very much her younger sibling, or at least that was the way she considered it – what comfort would it be to him that she was safe while he suffered?

It had occurred to her, of course, to find Gavner before she got out – but there had been a few events that had led to them being separated. Rescuing Gavner first would have been suicidal; how would she have opened the door to his cell, for one thing? It felt wrong to even think it, but two of them running were doomed – alone, she had half a chance.

It ran through her mind every second that he would think she'd abandoned him selfishly. Honestly, she had. Her intentions had been to find their friends and rescue him as soon as they were assembled, but the realization that she wouldn't be able to came quickly as soon as she was outside. After that, she had been running just for the sake of being free when they finally killed her – her choices were dying in the open or dying in one of their cages, and it hadn't taken her even a second to decide between those two. She hoped Gavner might understand that her intentions had been good, that she had _meant_ to come for him, but she knew he wouldn't.

Larten cleared his throat. She had a feeling he was thinking about that too, but didn't dare ask. She knew without even considering it that Mika would think she'd done the only sensible thing, but she knew Larten wouldn't approve – for once she hadn't been noble, and she knew he would hate her just a little bit for it, even if he wouldn't ever tell her so.

"We cannot just go when Arra is feeling better," he said, still without even a glance in her direction. It was unlike him to talk about her like she wasn't there. With every moment that he didn't look at her she could feel the guilt become worse and worse. "Gavner is in need of our help."

"There is no sense in sending Vancha and Arra into a battle they cannot hope to win," Mika argued instantly. _He _looked at her, intently, and that almost confirmed all of her worst suspicions. It was almost a guarantee that if Mika thought she'd done the _right_ thing, Larten would think she'd done wrong.

"Gavner is just as important," Larten snapped suddenly. "Now that Arra knows where he is, we cannot waste any more time. We will leave at midnight."

He had said all that without ever meeting her eyes, however much she'd tried to catch them.

Mika leaned back in his chair. He was not cruel-hearted, and he wished Gavner Purl no harm, but for him their mission had lost its urgency and become instead a strategic battle that they could take a few nights deliberating over. There was no sense, in their effort to shut down this whole Vamapneze operation, that they hurried there tonight with two of them weak and injured, without a proper plan formed. There was only one way he could think to put that to the younger man.

"Have you forgotten Vancha's missing Generals?" he asked, quietly.

Larten's head snapped up to meet the other man's eyes. "No," he growled, having guessed already where Mika was trying to take their conversation.

Mika rolled his eyes. "You _had_, until I reminded you," he commented, unmoved by Larten's anger. There was no easy way to say it. "The truth is, everyone has their own priorities."

"And Gavner is not one of yours."

Mika held up a hand before Larten could interrupt again. "I didn't say that," he corrected, wanting to avoid an argument if at all possible. Arra stared at him across the table, unreadable, but he tried to ignore her while he put his case forward. "But Vancha is looking for his team, you are looking for Gavner – we were all looking for Arra, and now we've found her."

Larten let out a bark of laughter, amazed by what he was hearing. "You are not a noble man," he accused, in barely more than a whisper.

Mika's jaw was set. "I am more than a noble man," he said slowly. "I am also a sensible one. We have found Arra, and that was what we were all looking for. Now that she knows where the Vampaneze are we have half a chance of taking them on and _winning_. But we need more than an hour or two to plan our next move, if you wish to have any chance of getting your friend and Vancha's men back alive."

Larten was tired of their conversation. It was unlike him to be so emotional, but in the face of almost losing his mate and being in the process of losing his closest friend he found he no longer had the capacity to be level-headed. He stood up and viciously slammed his chair back in to the table.

"I am going tonight," he barked, and finally he did force himself to look at Arra. "Vancha will come with me. You will come, too," he said, unwilling to consider the option that she might side with Mika and refuse to help him. "I cannot help Gavner without your assistance."

For half a second she looked unsure, and that was enough to send him on a downward spiral. Every passing moment where she didn't speak made him angrier and angrier, and he slammed a fist down onto the table-top when he felt she had waited too long to answer him.

"How can you be so selfish?" he demanded, furious.

It had taken everything he had not to think this all along, but now it was all spilling out – he had only just come to realize that she wasn't going to die, and as soon as his all-consuming fear for her life had evaporated it had been replaced by _anger_. He couldn't place exactly what made him so angry – after all, had she not come back they never would have known where Gavner might have been at all – but it was the fact that she had almost sentenced them both to death by foolishly trying to escape, and that now she didn't even seem able to muster the dedication to _fight_ to save their friend. He couldn't shake the feeling that had he been in her position, he wouldn't have been able to run without Gavner in tow, whatever the circumstances.

"You condemn him to death if you don't come tonight," he growled at her, unmoved by the tears in her eyes.

"I will," she said, voice thick from holding back tears, unable to understand how this had escalated so quickly. She never normally would have been upset by his raised voice – they both had fierce tempers, and they were prone to arguments – but the guilt was an overwhelming ball at the back of her throat that she couldn't swallow. She wasn't lying to him; even though hazy vision, blinding headache and the occasional seizure she would go with him tonight, both to save Gavner and to protect him – but it already felt like this one wrong move had changed his opinion of her altogether.

"You condemn Arra and Vancha both if you ask them to come with you tonight," Mika said, his voice calm while the rage boiled in his black eyes, keen to interrupt them. One of his hands shook as he balled it into a fist underneath the table, unable to watch anyone speak to Arra – _my assistant_, an old voice in the back of his mind said – in such a manner.

There was a long moment of silence in which Arra felt it might have been the perfect chance for her to interrupt and do something useful, like agree with one of them over the other, but the words never came out. She was so guilty about Gavner and desperately wanted to help him, but she _wasn't_ ready for that tonight no matter how much she wanted to be.

"Tomorrow night, in that case," Arrow suggested eventually.

It was obvious by the look in his eyes that Larten thought this a poor compromise. He well remembered the state Arra had been in last night – almost certainly, another few nights would have been enough to destroy her. How would Gavner be in another night's time? Every minute they weren't rescuing him was another minute he might actually _die_. It seemed that nobody understood that.

"I can't do it without you," he said bitterly, voice cracking. He was looking at her now, but suddenly she realized that was _worse _than when he'd been looking away. He stared down at her like he'd never seen her before – or never _really_ seen her before, for who she really was. Arra was desperate not to cry, but it was harder and harder with every word he said.

"On your head be it, if he dies before we reach him," her mate growled, before striding away.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence after he left the room. After a few moments had passed, Arrow managed to awkwardly offer one of the other two vampires something to drink, holding out a couple of bottles of blood from his pockets across the table to diffuse the tension. Arra was staring away from him and didn't bother to answer, mouth twitching, and Mika just waved him off. After that, the older General simply sighed and left the two of them alone.

It had been a couple of years since they had spoken the way they used to. Though searching for her and worrying about her had been terrible, it had given Mika a fresh perspective. He had wasted years now on being constantly furious with her for betraying and rejecting him, but as soon as he'd known about her disappearance he'd been desperate to have her back. It was clear, even to him, that he had never stopped caring about her, and it was as difficult as it ever had been to see her injured or see her upset. It had taken everything he had not to rip Larten's head from his shoulders when he'd watched her blink away tears.

He didn't love her in the same way he had done once, but he still loved her in one way or another. She was a part of him and he was a part of her – whatever had been said and done to hurt each other in the past was no longer relevant. There was no sense in pretending to hate her forever when he loved her so much.

"Everything will be alright," he said suddenly, and she looked back at him in surprise. There was a kind of warmth in his voice that hadn't been present for a long time. "We'll find Gavner – and Larten will come around, too."

He didn't dare say anything else; it wasn't his place to comment on anything between the two of them and he well remembered unpleasant nights when he had forgotten that before. This time, though, she did not look angry. Instead, she gave him a sad smile. She appreciated the thought, but she had no desire to discuss it with him, and she lacked the energy to even make a sensible comment on why she thought Larten was so angry with her and why she didn't blame him for it.

"Perhaps," she said, after a moment, and then continued to stare down at her hands.

It was clear that now wasn't the right time to discuss his new revelations about the future of their relationship – she was both exhausted and preoccupied – but this, as far as Mika was concerned, still represented progress. It was rare that any interaction between them didn't contain at least a certain amount of venom.

He stood to leave and allow her a while to think before they all gathered again to discuss how they might tackle the Vampaneze later in the night. Before he turned away though, he decided to take his chances. He quickly leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead, straightening up again quickly in his fear that he had offended her.

"Try not to get into anymore life or death situations, alright?" he asked, looking down at her affectionately. It was the closest he wanted to come to telling her that he had worried himself sick over her the past two weeks. "All this has made me exhausted."

He had worried that she'd react badly to the first physical affection he'd shown her in years or take his comment wrongly and assume he was only thinking of himself. Thankfully, she laughed softly at his attempt at humour.

"Is that your way of telling me you were just a _little_ bit concerned about me?"

He laughed as well then, and, feeling a little more comfortable, placed a hand over hers.

"Only a little," he agreed, smiling warmly at her again. It was surprisingly easy, he realized, to simply _forget _to hate her if he just didn't allow himself to focus on all of their past. Before he stood again, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders to draw him into a hug.

They stayed that way for a long moment. They would never agree on absolutely everything that had happened between them, but this was the right time to try and forget.


	10. Chapter 10

The sun hadn't set when Larten managed to contact his trapped friend. He was terribly angry with Arra, but he knew his reasons were weak. He was angry with her for leaving Gavner behind knowing that he would only have had perhaps another couple of nights to live, knowing that it was likely that he would be in some way blamed or interrogated after her disappearance – but logically he was aware that if she hadn't, the chances are they would both still be missing and searching for them would still have looked hopeless. It was so unlike her, though, to abandon Gavner when he would have needed her – how difficult could it really have been to save him?

His anger must have gotten across in his thoughts. Before he'd even spoken, Gavner knew everything.

_I knew she'd gotten out_, he said. _Is she alright?_

Larten had nothing to say about that. Gavner didn't sound angry with her, but then again Gavner never really sounded angry about anything. He was trying not to let on about her horrific transfusion experience – Gavner would soon be experiencing one of those himself, in all likelihood.

_She is fine_ he replied, cagily. In truth, he hadn't seen or heard her for the whole day and most of the night before. He was vaguely aware that she was probably among all the other sleeping bodies in the basement, but he hadn't cared to look for her. _We are coming back for you tonight, _he added quickly, not wanting Gavner to think that they'd forgotten about him (even if it seemed that everyone else _had_).

_Good luck, _Gavner replied grimly, clearly not holding onto much hope of rescue.

_If Arra can get out, _his oldest friend replied. _Then we can get in. _

_She is quick as fuck though, _the younger man replied uncertainly. _She ran straight past on her way out – I could barely even catch sight of her. I know for a fact your huge feet won't let you run like that!_

Ignoring the joke, Larten's temper boiled and he sighed unintentionally. She went _straight past_ him. He knew instinctively that he never could have left Gavner there, escaping for his own benefit and abandoning his friend. It wasn't even a mistake; she _must _have seen him, she had just made the split-second choice to save her own skin and run. The intensity of these thoughts was enough to transfer most of his outrage and disappointment in her onto Gavner.

_Don't be angry with her_ he said, but that only made him angrier. Gavner was so _good, _loyal and true, and the fact that he could defend her after she'd tossed him aside was only a testament to that. _I'd have gone too, in her place. If she'd stopped, we'd both still be here. _

They wouldn't have, Larten thought, because even though Gavner was sometimes a bit hopeless he was a real trooper under pressure, and he'd never let either of them down before when they'd been in any kind of scrape. If Arra had bothered to give him the chance, she should have known Gavner wouldn't be any hassle. Larten had been about to argue that really Gavner never would have left her – he was too dedicated to his friends and his kind to do such a thing – but suddenly there was a flash of an image in front of his eyes. Gavner was trying his best to show him something.

_Again, _Larten commanded, unable to get a fix on anything the first time. Everything was blurry and fuzzy – it was difficult for them to get anything this difficult across to the other, but eventually there was a vague sight of what he meant. Gavner's leg was twisted unnaturally, bloody, with the bone protruding through the skin. It was horrific.

_I couldn't have run if she'd given me the chance,_ Gavner admitted sadly. _And I won't be able to if you all come back for me. Sorry for showing you that mate. But now you can see what I mean when I say I am _completely_ fucked. _

There was a question whirring in Larten's mind, but he didn't really want to ask it. _Why are they keeping you – _he began, and then abruptly tried to stop, realizing what he'd almost said. Unfortunately, the nature of triangulation wasn't helpful for keeping secrets.

_Why are they keeping me alive, when I'll never get to be part of their new super breed now anyway? _Gavner said, guessing correctly. Larten could sense a slight twinge of sadness, maybe a lump in his throat. _To be honest, _the brave younger man continued. _I don't think they will be, much longer. _

Larten was starting to feel sick.

_We're coming tonight _he repeated. _Arra knows the way. They won't hurt you before we get there. _

It sounded like Gavner was sighing, or at least that he was filled with the same sort of despair. _Gonna bring a new leg for me, are you? _

Larten had no appropriate reply. He convinced himself that it didn't matter if Gavner was injured; Arrow was a particularly strong man and he could probably manage to carry the younger vampire, even if he did have a few too many bowls of bat broth and a few too many barrels of ale last Council. But how quickly could that happen? It was no longer a matter of just letting Gavner know the time was right to break the bars and make a run for it – they would have to physically pick him up and carry him out of danger, all the while surrounded by dangerous, well-armed Vampaneze guards.

_You should go back to the Mountain and get assistance, _Gavner suggested suddenly. _These Vampaneze are crazy, the whole lot of them – it's too much for your group to cope with. _

The idea of leaving Gavner to be disposed of by the purple monsters was unthinkable.

_I know you're the General and I'm not_, Gavner continued, sensing his friend's disgust at that idea. _But for once I think you ought to listen to me._

_No, _Larten replied straightaway. It was like Arra telling him she was going to die all over again, his heart was breaking and the panic was setting in just like it had done then. He was already climbing back down the staircase in search of his comrades, desperate to wake them and begin their rescue operation as quickly as they possibly could.

_Think about it, _Gavner said stubbornly. _You'll all die coming for me. Then what will happen next? Nobody else even knows about this…_

_No, _said Larten, simply, unable to convey all the ways Gavner was wrong. It didn't matter that the Vampaneze might continue killing unchecked if they all perished and hurt the clan in a much more significant way, it didn't matter that Gavner was injured and probably halfway Vampaneze by now. Nothing mattered except _loyalty_, the kind Arra had failed to display. With that last thought, unwilling to listen to his friend's comments any longer, he terminated the connection.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but when they did he was aware of a figure standing at the other corner of the room. Arra was awake and fully prepared for battle, having already sorted through the supplies of weapons and armour Vancha and his men had been carrying around with them to choose her own.

"Gavner spoke to you, too."

That caught his attention, and the sound of her voice roused Arrow and Mika. Larten turned to look at her, unable to stop himself from glaring. A little voice in his mind wondered whether he was only _so _angry because he had almost lost her forever, but he paid it no attention.

"I suppose you are going to the Mountain," he bit back at her, nudging Vancha with his foot to wake him as well. "I suppose you think that is more important than saving Gavner."

Arra didn't seem to find his horrible attitude offensive. She simply sighed. In the low light it looked like she hadn't slept much, and he thought he could identify pain in her expression, either from his treatment of her or from the way she was feeling from her injuries. Either way, she looked unhappy. For the tiniest of moments, he felt a pang of sympathy for her, but then he pushed it to the back of his mind.

"I wouldn't need a machete for the journey to the Mountain," she commented coolly, not as desperate for his forgiveness and acceptance as she had been the night before. Her eyes, when she drew nearer to him, were colder and more distant than they had been for a long time. "You'd best hurry, all of you, if we're to be on our way by nightfall."


End file.
